


Ghost Towns and Paper Clowns

by Valentino_Miller



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-15 02:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14781908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valentino_Miller/pseuds/Valentino_Miller
Summary: Rick wakes in the hospital with no memory of his previous life and no understanding of the new world.It's a seemingly kind stranger, Negan, who will help him find his place.(Continuous work, new tags and relationships will be added along the way!)





	1. Safe House

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction in a while, and to be honest I'm not sure where it'll lead, but I hope it will lead somewhere good. I've had this pairing in my little book of writing for over a year now, and so I think it's finally time I wrote it.  
> The idea being that Rick wakes up from his coma with no real memories of his previous life, and Negan finds him. Also set in a world where Rick and Negan are both very much single.

Rick’s body ached. 

His legs felt limp, like he’d been running for miles. His arms now sagged at his side, tired from the amount of work he’d completed that day. He felt hot, sweaty, unable to bare the mid-summer sun of Georgia, even after the sun went down, the humidity caused Rick to feel ever so slightly uncomfortable. 

By now, he had found a safe house, of sorts. 

He had no idea where he was going when he left the hospital, so he just started walking. He walked and walked, and if he saw those not-really-human-things, he walked the other way, then walked some more. He wasn’t sure what he’d hoped to find, maybe someone that could still speak? Maybe a group of people? Or just a place where these not-really-human-things weren’t allowed. He still hadn’t totally figured out what those things were, or why they were like that. His first guess was a new designer drug that might have hit the market. He remembered reading in a paper once that a drug had turned users into the literal walking dead, although he couldn’t remember how long ago that was. 

The safe house seemed, safe, oddly enough. It hadn’t been used much, Rick noted, as everything had a thin layer of dust atop it. The neighborhood he was in seemed to be severely lacking in those not-really-human-things, which was good, he thought. The safe house was really an old converted barn. It didn’t have much, a few old boxes and storage containers that seemed mostly empty, a red couch sat curiously in the middle of the barn, not really facing anything. In the corner, a small stock pile of pillows, blankets, bags, clothes…

Rick took a seat on the ancient couch after hitting the cushions a few times, hoping to get rid of the layer of dust that had accumulated. 

It didn’t help, it only made him cough and gag. 

By now, It was late. Rick wasn’t sure how late, but it was too late to be out there. The funny thing was, he didn’t really feel uneasy, he didn’t really feel anything. Okay, that was a lie, he did feel confused. While the question of what had happened out there swirled on the back burner, Rick was more concerned with what had happened to him. 

He couldn’t remember. He had been scraping his brain all day, trying to piece together the small fractions of his life that he remembered. He knew his name, that was Rick. He knew his age, thirty-six. He knew where he was, Georgia, United States of America. He knew those things out there were bad, but he’d only learnt that recently. 

While at the hospital, Rick had found a small stack of clothes left next to his bed. Jeans, boots, socks, underwear, a plain white t-shirt, a hooded jumper, a pair of tracksuit pants, neatly packed into a backpack alongside a small metal tin that he hadn’t quite made sense of yet. The bag was next to his bed, so he assumed it was all his.   
He wondered why he was in hospital in the first place. He wondered who his family were. He wondered why he couldn’t recall anything. He wondered how he’d gotten that scar on his chest, and then he wondered if that was why he was in hospital. 

He lay down on the couch, listening to the silence outside, slightly alert but now able to relax. He propped his head on one of the arm rests, stretching out the rest of his body. The barn creaked every so often, but for the most part, it was quiet, which was nice. 

Although Rick didn’t have long to appreciate, as the exhaustion from the day caught up to him, he found himself drifting back into a deep sleep.

-

Rick woke up, his face pressed against the back of the couch, he wasn’t sure what time it was, but he knew he could have been asleep for days. It was only after stretching out his limbs and taking a deep yawn did he notice that his head was now propped up on a pillow. He looked down at the grandma-style check cushion, furrowing his brow slightly in confusion. 

“Do you know how long you’ve been out of it?” A voice broke the silence in the barn, and Rick shot over to his other side, sitting up quickly and now finding himself on high alert.   
This person just carried on talking though, like he hadn’t just made Rick nearly possibly shit himself. 

“fifty-seven hours. That’s a fuckin’ record, right? It’s got to be. Too bad no ones keeping score anymore though, am’I’rite?” He let out a breathy laugh.

“Who are you?” Rick croaked, his voice hoarse for having just woken up. 

“Better question would be, who are you?” The man smirked, his lips twitching on one side as he tilted his head ever so slightly to the left. “I mean, you’re the one on my property, in my barn, sleeping on my couch, which by the way I haven’t been able to enjoy the comfort of for fifty-seven fuckin’ hours. So, I think this is a case of you going first.”

“I'm uh- I'm Rick… and I’m thirty-six.” Rick stumbled, trying to recall the small amount of information he had. 

“Okay Rick who’s thirty-six, are you asking me or telling me?” The man responded, leaning now to his other side as he looked Rick up and down. 

“I don’t really know who I am, I woke up in the hospital not long before I got here, and I have no memory of why, I don’t even know where I live.” Rick responded, and the stranger fell silent for a moment, stunned.

“Well holy fuckin’ shit, Rick. So- so you have no idea what happened or what’s going on? Fuck. I have a lot to catch you up on.”

“What’s your name?” Rick questioned. 

“I’m Negan, and it’s your lucky day, you just made yourself a new friend in this shit hole of a new world! You're gonna love it.”


	2. Love Letters and Gunshots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick settles into his new home, and Negan notes his interest.

Negan had been kind enough to give Rick an upgrade in accommodation. 

No longer sleeping in Negan’s barn on that horrible old couch, he now found himself in one of the bedrooms in Negan’s home. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a normal guest room that had barely been touched since the original owners had left, it seemed. The bed was comfortable, so comfortable in fact that Rick slept another nine hours there after being fed. When he woke the second time, Negan wasn’t staring down at him, though. The disorientation had also seemed to have faded slightly.

Once Rick had woken up properly, run a comb through his hair, and generally made himself not look so rotten, he made his way downstairs. He was greeted at the front door by a man called Dwight. He had long blonde hair and striking eyes. He stood with his back to Rick, facing out into the community, watching as people went about their day. He turned on his heel to face Rick when he’d heard the footsteps on the staircase.

“You ready to go?” Dwight asked, walking off ahead of Rick regardless of the reply he got. Rick followed along, adjusting his eyes to the midday sun as he stepped out. He took note of the two-dozen people that were milling around, he saw one or two kids, but not many. 

“Everyone kind of just turned up alone, no big groups or anything.” Dwight spoke, almost reading the questions going through Rick’s mind before he had a chance to ask them. He’d probably given this tour before. He probably knew what everyone wanted to know. “It was just Negan and two others, then I showed up, so I’ve been here a while. I’d give it a few months, if I were guessing. We stopped keeping count a long time ago. This place though, Negan found it by accident. It’s weird right? A whole row of homes in the middle of nowhere. They were gonna fill this whole field up with them, but that didn’t happen. So this was all that they did, a bunch of show homes. It was going to be called Redstone Acres. We just call it Redstone.”

Dwight pointed out certain houses as they walked the length of the cul-de-sac and back, he told Rick names, stories, events, things to know, who’s involved with who. Rick only managed to soak up about twenty percent of the information. He liked to think it was the important pieces that he retained. All he really needed to know was that this community had somewhat of a pecking order. Negan was on top, Dwight and Simon second, and everyone else in third.

“Is the whole world like this?” Rick questioned.

“Like what?” Dwight asked as they walked their way back to the main house, Negan’s home. “Fucked up? I mean, I guess so. I think so.” 

With that, they walked in silence back to the house. Dwight noted that he had a few other things to do that day, but before he ran off, he looked around to make sure no prying ears could hear. Then, he leaned in to Rick and spoke under his breath. 

“Just keep your head down, you’ll be fine here. Negan’s a tough son of a bitch but only when he needs to be, don’t give him a reason to be.”

With that, Dwight made his exit, walking back down the cul-de-sac towards one of the four by fours that were parked at the entrance to the community. 

A few moments later, Rick felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Rick, I assume that little blonde fuckhead gave you the tour?” Negan smiled, biting his lower lip ever so slightly as he examined Rick. “I told him to, wanted to make you feel welcome. Do you feel welcome?”

Negan paused, his eyes conveyed two different emotions at the same time, and Rick wondered how the fuck he did that. He looked sincere, like he genuinely wanted to know the answer to his question. Yet, at the same time he looked like he might beat your head in for saying the wrong answer. 

“Yeah- Yes. Yes, very welcome here. Thank you.” Rick stumbled on his words, unable to move from his position. Negan let out a light chuckle and then flung and arm around Rick’s shoulders, forcefully leading him to the kitchen. Once there, Negan began to pace very slowly around the island counter. He let Rick get comfortable, letting him go before offering him something to eat. 

“A coffee would be good.” Rick smirked, trying to push his luck. 

“You sneaky fucker.” Negan chuckled, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small silver key and unlocked one of the cupboards, in there Rick saw coffee, cigarettes, a small bag of pot, alcohol and all manner of goodies. Negan then pulled the pot of expensive brand coffee into his grasp and got to work making two cups.

“It’s a virus, right?” Rick said, matter-of-factly, breaking the short silence that had fallen on the two. “How did it spread so fast?”

“Shit if I know.” Negan replied, smirking at the innocence Rick was demonstrating. “I’m no fucking scientist. I just got out when it got bad, moved around a bit until there were no good places left to go to. Although, this place aint so bad now we’ve fixed it up a bit.” 

“and how did you become the guy than runs everything?” Rick pushed further, curious as to the people he now surrounded himself with. After all, they were the only people he knew. 

“It works so well because we all have a mutual interest in not dying. But someone’s got to fuck that cat while everyone else holds open the legs. You get me?” 

“Yeah.” Rick nodded, unable to answer what he’d just heard with anything productive. He wasn’t sure whether to be offended or laugh at Negan’s comment. He did both.  
It wasn’t long before Rick had a steaming hot cup of coffee in front of him. Despite not remembering much, he knew he loved the smell and taste of coffee. Negan picked up on that. 

“So, you know nothing.” Negan spoke slowly, taking a sip of his still-too-hot coffee. “You don’t remember your family? Friends? What happened to you for you to be in the hospital in the first place?”

“It’s like, I know how the world works, and everything. I just don’t know who I am.” Rick responded, mimicking Negan’s relaxed body language. “I don’t know anything about my previous life, or the people that were in it, but I know I had a life… I’m probably making no sense right now.” 

“No clues? No medical records? You didn’t think to check any of that before you left the hospital?” Negan questioned, almost dumbfounded by Rick’s stupidity. 

“No, I did… there just wasn’t anything to be found.” Rick replied. 

With that, the topic came to a subtle end. They sat in silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the quiet. 

“Right, well, now I have to assign a job to you.” Negan piped up, like the coffee and given him a new set of batteries, he was now a rabbit on a high. “We’re half way through fitting a perimeter fence but we need people to be on watch while everyone is helping to build.” I’m going to set you up at the front with my guy Simon. You two can alternate two-hour shifts.” 

“Okay.” Rick nodded. He had no other choice, really. He had no where to go, no one to find. His best option was to stay and do exactly as Negan says.  
-  
The rest of the day ended up being a whole lot of nothing for Rick. He followed Negan around mostly, introduced himself to one or two people. He helped bring water from the well, he helped with the food stores, he helped a kid organize his toy collection. 

By the time the sun was setting, people had retreated to their respective homes, Rick had gone back to his room, inspecting everything in it as he didn’t feel tired enough to sleep yet. He didn’t find anything interesting, unless you consider old love letters interesting. They were between a couple, Gary and Amelia, and they were dated around the 1940s.

With nothing else to keep him occupied, Rick took the letters and laid on his bed, opening the first one, he started to read. He sat with his head propped up on a few pillows, at this point wearing just his track pants. It was too hot in Georgia to sleep in anything, to be honest. Rick felt he needed to keep some of his modesty, though. 

By the time Rick made it to the fifth letter, he’d found himself fully engrossed in the love story of Gary and Amelia. It was only when Negan spoke that Rick jumped out of the world inside the letters.

“Rick.” He’d said. His figure stood in the doorway to Rick’s room, and then he stepped inside. He wasn’t wearing his leather jacket now, and he looked different. Before, Negan had been commanding, scary in some respects. Now Rick saw the same man in just shorts and a t-shirt, he was unable to look away from this guy that looked just as scared and innocent as himself. “What’re you reading?” he questioned as he made his way over and sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Some love letters I found in the wardrobe.” Rick replied, passing one of the more detailed letters to Negan. He opened it up and started reading before throwing it back onto the bed. 

“Soppy shit does nothing for me.” Negan laughed. “Stupid fuckheads thought they were all in love, he was probably fucking ten other women. Right?”

Rick looked down at the letter in his hand and suddenly they seemed childish, he felt ridiculous for becoming so involved in this story. He felt slightly belittled by Negan, his heart sinking. He dropped the letter to the bad and looked at Negan, willing him to speak. Negan stayed silent though, instead now looking at the scar on Rick’s pectoral.  
“Gunshot wound.” He said, matter-of-factly. “That’s what that is. You were shot.” 

At that, Rick looked down at the wound, it had turned a different shade to the rest of his skin, scarring over slowly. He hated the sight of it. He then started thinking about why the hell he had been shot, and by who. 

Negan shuffled up the bed for a closer look, he furrowed his brow slightly as he ran one finger over the length of the scar. Rick winced. 

“Looks like it was a shotgun or something.” Negan muttered, his finger still on Rick’s skin, Rick could feel something welling up inside him. It was a strange mix of nerves, excitement, and confusion. He felt something brand new, as hormones rushed around his body, releasing endorphins unwillingly to Negan’s touch. It was like Negan knew this, as well, because a sly smirk crossed his face before his fingers traced their way down the length of Rick’s chest, his abdomen, and then he stopped. 

“Goodnight, Rick.” 

With that, he left, closing the bedroom door as he went. Rick laid there, not knowing how to make sense of what had just happened. His heart was beating ever so slightly faster, a cold sweat formed on the back of his neck and his cock throbbed in his track pants, and all of it, every single bit of it was for Negan. And Rick knew he needed more Negan.


	3. You're Mine Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to heat up as Rick befriends some of the community, and Negan wants more from his new room-mate.

Rick’s days consisted of not much more than keeping watch as the community continued to erect the area wall. They were much further along compared to when Rick had arrived, working like a well-oiled machine. 

As Rick took on his new position keeping watch at the gate, he got to know Simon better, and he’d decided that he absolutely hated the son-of-a-bitch. Simon had taken Rick out three times exactly. All of which were to teach him ‘how to be a fuckin’ man’, whatever that meant. 

They’d driven about five miles to an area that seemed all but dead, literally. Simon had brought with him a duffel bag of weapons. He yanked it out of bed of the truck and told Rick to watch and learn. 

“First things first, blow to the head. Only thing that kills them.” Simon spoke as he stabbed two walkers in the head with a small blade. “This is okay, but close contact isn’t good. One of these things bites you or as much as scratches you, you’ll be dead.”

With that, he took out a machete, and at arm’s length he sliced another three walkers’ heads off. Their mouths continued to bite and snare, Rick looked on in disbelief.  
“Fucking vile, right?” Simon laughed as he noticed the look on Rick’s face. “It’s okay if you need to puke, just don’t do it near me.” 

Simon then, with brute force, brought his foot down upon a walker’s head, smashing it like a rotten pumpkin. Rick turned a scary shade of white. He ran a few meters before his body rejected what he’d eaten earlier that day. Rick coughed and spluttered as he threw up, Simon cackled in the background, almost like he was enjoying it. 

Rick stayed there for a moment after he’d finished, panting for breath. He tried to regain a sense of stability as his head had spun out of all control. He’d seen these things, lots of them, but so far, he’d not needed to kill any. The realization that he would, sunk in fast. 

“Your turn.” Simon piped up, moments after Rick had stood up. He shoved a long blade into Rick’s hand and then nodded, as if to say get on with it. Rick stood, paralyzed, he wanted to show Simon that he could do it, but the shock still seemed present. 

After a few moments, the smile on Simon’s face disappeared. He walked towards one of the walkers, grabbed it, and threw it in Rick’s direction. The walker stumbled, growling as he smelt Rick. It came at him, fast, teeth snapping. Rick’s fight or flight kicked in, and he beheaded the walker in one quick swipe. It’s body falling to the ground like a ragdoll, it’s head rolled down the verge and into the river. Simon found it hilarious. 

“Fun aint it?” Simon spoke, “You’ll become desensitized to it after a while.” 

Rick was once again staring at the snapping teeth of the two heads that remained. He saw as Simon kicked one of the heads down the hill and into the river. 

“They’re not human Rick, stop lookin’ at em like they are.” He stated, and that ended their adventure. Simon drove them back, and they listened to an old CD by R.E.M. 

At that moment, Rick decided he disliked Simon. He disliked the way Simon acted and the way he spoke. That dislike slowly grew into hatred, as not a moment went by where Simon wasn’t cracking a terrible joke about Rick, to Rick. 

-

It was evening, and as the sun set, Rick settled himself on one of the front steps of Negan’s porch. Having just swapped with Simon, he’d have one more two-hour shift later, and then he’d go to sleep. For now, he sat sipping at his bottle of water, enjoying the peace of the community. 

He looked at the barn, which now had half a wall surrounding it. He considered how lucky he was to have been found by seemingly caring people. He liked the people here. He liked Negan, more than he liked anyone else. 

After a few moments, Dwight wandered over and took a seat next to Rick, holding out a pack of cigarettes, as if to offer one to Rick. Rick took one, then copied Dwight as he lit the end and took a long drag. As Rick did so, he began to cough uncontrollably. Dwight smirked, took the cigarette and stubbed it out on the step.

“Not a smoker then, add that to the list of things you know about yourself.” 

After Rick took a few chugs of water and composed himself, he laughed. 

“Don’t know unless I try, right?” Rick smiled. Dwight continued to smoke his cigarette. There was a moment of silence, and then Rick decided to ask the question that was on his mind. “What did you mean when you said, ‘Negan can be a tough son of a bitch’?”

Dwight took a moment to consider his words. Then, after letting out a puff of smoke, he spoke. 

“There was someone here, once. They were cool, stayed under the radar for like two months, then they started bad mouthing Negan to everyone else, encouraging them to leave with him. He thought he could do a better job of protecting all of us. Negan found out and, well, he wasn’t happy. The guys not here now, that’s all you need to know.” Dwight finished speaking abruptly. He stubbed out his cigarette with his boot and stood up. 

“What happened? What did Negan do?” Rick questioned.

“He killed him.” 

With that, Dwight left, he took off down the street towards his own little show home. Rick watched him walk, and finally he was gone. Rick found himself thinking about what Dwight had said. Negan had killed someone, an actual human someone. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. 

Rick made his way upstairs, sitting down on his bed to compose himself. After a few minutes, he went to the rucksack he’d found next to his hospital bed and started rifling through it. He took out the clothes, the small metal tin, and then he began opening pockets, grabbing with desperation to find something that he’d recognize. Only he came up short. It was only when he’d noticed the pocket inside the bag that he’d felt foolish for not noticing it earlier. He pushed his hand in, fishing around for anything. Inside, a scrap of paper.

Opening the scrap of paper, he began to read;

_Rick,_

_Things seem to be getting quite bad, I’m going back into the city to help the precinct, so I’ll be gone for a few days. I’m leaving this, just incase you wake up when I’m away.  
I love you so much._

_\- S_

Rick left the room more confused than when he arrived. He now had a desperate desire to find out who ‘S’ was. They obviously played a large part in Rick’s previous life, and Rick wanted to know more. 

-  
Rick was still awake, and he wasn’t sure how late it was, but he knew it had to be gone midnight. He couldn’t sleep, laying on the top of his bed, not bothering with sheets due to the heat. He had been trying to force his brain to remember something, anything. He kept repeating ‘S’ in his head, trying to muster up some sort of recollection. It was no use, though. 

At a point, it got too hot, unbearable almost. Rick pulled himself off the bed, making his way downstairs. In the lounge, large bay windows created a through breeze. Rick opened them both, and then settled himself on the couch. The slight breeze helped, and he found himself slowly relaxing into the comfort of the couch. His brain hadn’t settled enough to sleep, but at least he felt slightly comfortable now. 

Rick closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths as he tried to re-center his mind. He wasn’t sure how long he laid there doing just that. 

He was stirred by a pressure on his bare chest. Opening his eyes ever so slightly, Rick recognized the man now touching him. He couldn’t make Negan out completely, but he could see the slight highlights from the moon, and he found that he couldn’t move. 

“Rick.” Negan smiled. His fingers traced lines across Rick’s chest, causing his dick to throb. “I’m going to make you cum now, is that okay?”

Rick said nothing, but he nodded slightly. He couldn’t help but admire Negan’s figure, he was naked apart from his boxer briefs. He then made his way onto the couch, crawling on top of Rick, so that his hard cock pressed up against Rick’s ass. It took everything in his power not to turn Rick over and fuck him senseless. 

He pulled Rick’s shorts off, throwing them across the room. He began to suck and bite Rick’s neck, causing him to let out several involuntary moans. Before Rick’s mind had time to second guess his gut, he was holding Negan, pressing his lips against Negan’s. It wasn’t romantic, and it wasn’t needy. It seemed like more of an experiment. Moments, seconds passed and soon Negan found himself molding his lips to Rick’s. If they were to stop and think about it, really think about it… they were kissing, really kissing. Nobody was pulling away, they were stuck in a limbo. A mess of lips and tongues and hands and touching. 

Quickly enough, Negan’s hand found it’s way down to Rick’s now hard cock, he stroked it slowly, teasing Rick and enjoying the small sounds of ecstasy he was letting out. He continued to kiss Rick, alternating between his mouth, his neck, his chest. It made Negan smirk when Rick’s breath hitched in-between moans. Rick wasn’t thinking about anything else now, he only thought about Negan, and Negan’s body, and what Negan was doing to him.

It was all too much, and Rick found himself climaxing, he let out a deep visceral moan as he came over his own stomach. The feeling of an orgasm overwhelming him slightly. He lay there breathless, a thin layer of sweat now on his brow. 

Negan then lent forward, whispering into Rick’s ear.

“You’re mine now, okay?” 

Rick nodded, more than happy to oblige.


	4. The Other Community

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan goes on a mission, Dwight gets Rick drunk, a new face appears.

When Rick woke the next day, the heat seemed to have passed. The sky was grey, overcast, and Rick could hear the rumble of distant thunder. The windows had one or two drops of rain now hitting them, and Rick knew that a storm was on the way.  
He got up off the couch, the memory of last night still fresh in his mind. He smiled to himself as he replayed what had happened between himself and Negan. It was strange, like through that one small act, he now had all control over Rick’s thoughts. 

Rick pulled himself from the couch. He rubbed his eyes and then caught sight of his wild hair in the mirror. He made his way upstairs, throwing on some of the clothes Negan had given him. He chose the khaki button up, along with a pair of black jeans, and finally, a deep brown Sherpa lined jacket. To finish it off, he put on some plain boots, quickly combed his hair, then made his way outside. He didn’t need to be on watch for a while yet, and so the first thing he wanted to do was find Negan.

As he stepped outside, he saw the group of men erecting the next part of the fence. A few of them had stopped for a smoke break. Rick made his way over and asked if any of them had seen Negan, only to receive a bunch of mumbled ‘no’s. He nodded, un-enthusiastically, then went on his way. As he walked the length of the cul-de-sac, he found that he was starting to get slightly anxious. 

For the few days that he’d known himself, he’d become uncomfortably attached to Negan. Like a comfort blanket for a baby, Rick craved his presence. The fact that he knew Negan wasn’t in the immediate vicinity at that very moment unnerved him. He picked up his pace slightly, making his way to where Dwight and Simon were stood chatting, the gates to the community stood wide open. 

“Where’s Negan?” Rick questioned, without wasting a moment. 

“Jesus, I’m sure he’ll be fine for a few hours without you up his ass.” Simon laughed. “He’s gone to run an errand, he’ll be back soon.”

“An errand?” Rick pushed, not entirely sure what Simon meant by that. 

“He’s gone to one of the other communities to make a deal.” Simon said.

“He won’t be long.” Dwight added, reassuringly. 

Simon then went about closing the gate, he would take first watch, he told Rick. 

“Come on, I need help in the armoury.” Dwight piped up, grabbing Rick’s arm and dragging him in the direction of another out building. Once there, he pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. Rick and Dwight stepped inside, and Dwight pointed at the bag of loose bullets. 

“Need to organise these.” Dwight started, pulling out four different plastic boxes. “Size first, then we’ll go through ‘em and see whats what.” Dwight then took a handful of bullets, throwing them into the relevant boxes. Rick watched for a moment, then sat on the small footstool. He grabbed a handful of bullets himself and began separating them. Dwight took a seat on the wood flooring, he crossed his legs and went about sorting the bullets with Rick. They were silent for a while. 

“So, there’s other communities?” Rick asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them. 

“Only three that we know of so far.” Dwight nodded. “We have a deal with the first two, so there’s not trouble. But this new one was found late last night by the two of our guys. Negan wanted to deal with it himself.” 

“What are the other two communities like?” 

“Small, probably the same size as this. Neither of them has a real leader, they’re just running around like scared headless chickens. Negan offers them our protection for a portion of their supplies.” 

“That seems fair.” Rick added, still sorting through the bullets. The clinking of metal on metal was strangely therapeutic. “What about this third community?”

“I don’t know much about them. Negan grabbed me and Simon early this morning, told us that this place has been found, it’s just a farm house, but there’s a large group staying there.” Dwight spoke. “I offered to tag along but, he wanted to deal with it alone. Thing is, if they had someone there that challenges Negan, it’s not going to be pretty.”

“Because he’s a tough son-of-a-bitch.” Rick mimicked Dwight from the other day, he was learning fast.

“Exactly.” 

-

The day passed without much fuss. The storm came, and the storm went. Rick and Simon alternated shifts until the sun fell, and darkness engulfed them, and still Negan wasn’t back. 

As Rick made his way back to his room in Negan’s home, he couldn’t help but feel his heart sink slightly. It was a strange longing feeling, despite only knowing Negan for a few days. Rick needed his protector to return home. 

Having eaten something, and changed into more comfortable clothes, Rick relaxed into the couch, and waited. He didn’t really know what else there was to do but wait for Negan. 

It was about twenty minutes later when the door to the home opened, Rick sat up, excitedly. Yet again, his heart sank when he realised it was only Dwight. 

“Don’t look too fuckin’ disappointed.” He smirked, closing the door behind him. He made his way into the lounge, threw his backpack onto the couch and took a seat on the floor. He crossed his legs, and Rick watched as he unzipped his backpack and brought out a variety of items. Rick’s eyes glazed over each one as Dwight placed them on the table. 

“What’s all this for?” Rick asked, curiously.

“Well, I’m bored as a mother fucker.” Dwight spoke as he continued to unpack his bag. “and, you know, since we had so much fun the other day trying cigarettes, I thought I’d turn you into my little experiment. We’re gonna find out what you like.”  
“Right.” Rick nodded, unsure, but willing to go along. Dwight asked him to retrieve two glasses from the kitchen, which he did. Then, Dwight opened the bottle of Brandy, and poured both himself and Rick a shot. 

“Bottoms up.” Dwight said, swigging the bitter sweet liquid in one gulp. He let out a breath through gritted teeth, the Brandy didn’t exactly feel great going down. Rick did just as Dwight did, and he fully committed. He drank the liquid in one quick gulp, once again coughing as it burnt its way down his throat. 

“And this is?” Rick asked, wondering why anyone would want to drink a liquid this vile. 

“This, my dear Rick, is alcohol.” Dwight smiled, pouring another two shots. “It will make you very warm and very happy. Or it’ll make you suicidal. Either way, it’s better than reality. So, drink up.”

They swallowed the shots together this time, slamming the glasses on the table in unison. Rick had to admit, while he didn’t like the content, he did enjoy the activity of taking shots with someone. It was somewhat fun. 

Dwight then went for the deck of cards, shuffling them with intent. 

“Know any card games?” Dwight asked, watching at Rick looked at him with a mix of awe and confusion. “I’ll take that as a no.” he laughed, placing the deck on the table and then dealing cards to both himself and Rick. “We’ll start with ‘snap’, work our way up to ‘war’.”

-

By the time Negan returned, both Rick and Dwight had fallen asleep on the couch. The empty bottle of Brandy lay on the table next to the pack of cards that were now all over the room. Half smoked cigarettes lay in the ashtray, along with an empty bag of weed. Rick had decided not to partake in that, given his previous experience of smoking. 

Negan walked quietly, avoiding the one creaky floorboard that he’d become accustom to. He removed his leather jacket, throwing it on the futon in the corner on the room. Then he made his way around the back of the couch, he leant over Dwight’s shoulder, as close to the blondes’ ear as he could.

“Dwight.” He started, Dwight groaned, stirred slightly. “If you don’t get the fuck out of here right now, I will hurt you.” 

Negan’s voice had been like an alarm, Dwight found himself fully conscious, still slightly drunk, he made his exist hastily, not even looking Negan in the eye. He didn’t need that judgement, not tonight. After Dwight had left, Negan made his way to the front of the couch. He perched himself on the coffee table, brushing cards and loose ash out of the way. He watched Rick sleep for a moment, then proceeded to run his hand across Rick’s cheek, slowly waking him from his slumber.  
“Are you drunk, Rick?” Negan questioned, noticing the coy smile on Rick’s face when he opened his eyes and spotted Negan.

“No. Not, what’s that?” Rick mumbled, laughing at himself as he was unable to put together a sentence. “Oh, Negan. I missed you, Negan. Negan.” 

“Yep, that’s my name.” Negan let out a breathy laugh, Rick was fucking adorable, the way he smiled ever so slightly, his shy laugh he let out when he saw his protector return. Negan loved being wanted like that. 

He helped Rick to his feet, then lead him upstairs. Yet, instead of taking Rick to his own room, Negan continued down the hall to his own. He unlocked his bedroom door with his one free hand, and then stumbled inside, throwing Rick onto the bed like a rag doll. Rick noticed that Negan’s room was a lot more lived-in. He sat up slowly, legs draping off the side of the bed as he examined every object he could see. 

Negan went about undressing Rick, it wasn’t sexual, it was the same type of undressing you might do on your drunk best friend after he just tried to flirt with a streetlight. He removed Rick’s t-shirt, and his track pants, leaving him in just his underwear.  
“Sleep, now.” Negan said, almost as an order. Rick nodded, crawling over to the other side of the bed. He lay down, resting his head on the pillow. He was out like a light. 

“Fuckin’ lightweight.” Negan laughed to himself. He went back downstairs, got a bottle of water for Rick, and made his way back up to bed. He left the bottle of water by Rick’s side of the bed, and he then got into bed himself. He pulled Rick close, like a teddy bear, wrapping his arms tightly around his body, he was unwilling to let go. 

-

“Why do people drink alcohol? Why do people smoke? I don’t understand any of it.” Rick sipped more water after throwing up for the second time that morning. Negan couldn’t really help, he wanted to, but he couldn’t, because it was too fucking funny seeing Rick suffer for having an enjoyable time without him. He knew it was only Dwight, but Negan still felt insanely jealous and protective. Negan had given Rick two painkillers to help with the headache, and for the most part, left him to deal with what he had inflicted on himself. “Dwight should have told me this would happen.” 

“Dwight shouldn’t have been here with you in the fuckin’ first place.” Negan spoke sternly. He fixed his hair in the mirror and every so often glanced over at Rick who was now laying on the bed, looking very worse for wear. “I’ll talk to him today, and I’ll get his hungover ass to do your shifts. You get to sleep off the hangover, lucky you.” 

“Yeah, lucky me.” Rick groaned, laying on his side and closing his eyes, willing the world to stop spinning for just a moment. “What are you doing today?” 

“Me?” Negan asked, pulling on his leather jacket over his shirt. “I have a meeting with that group of survivors. They’re coming here to talk trade deals. Need Simon with me for that.” Negan made his way over to the bed, planting a kiss on Rick’s cheek before smirking. 

“My head hurts.” Rick stated for the one-hundredth time. 

“I know.” Negan replied. “You better sleep it off, because daddy wants to play later.” He ran his fingers through Rick’s hair, then left, and Rick found himself falling into a deep sleep. 

-

The survivors, or survivor, arrived about an hour later, Negan and Simon welcomed them at the gate, Negan with his barbed wire adorned bat, and Simon with a long-sharpened machete. 

“Welcome to RedStone. Thank you so much for coming.” Negan spoke, putting on his most charming voice. “I thought your whole group would be here. Did they just send the errand boy?” 

“No, I’m the leader.” The guy replied, his voice harsh, he had a deep southern drawl, deeper than Rick’s, Negan noted. “Negan and Simon, right?” 

“and you are?” Negan smirked. 

“Shane Walsh.” 

“Shane Walsh.” Simon copied, elongating his syllables and putting on a ridiculous southern accent. “Come on in, we’ve got things to talk about.” 

They made their way to Simon’s home, right by the entrance. Sitting at the table, Shane watched Negan, and then he looked at Simon who stood behind Negan.

“Does that asshole really need to be here to protect you?” Shane pushed, pointing his question towards Negan. 

“Just pretend like he’s not here.” Negan replied, crossing his legs and leaning back in the chair. “Now, Shane. The offer still stands as it was. We won’t kill you if you give us half of everything you find.”

“Yeah, that deal aint gonna work for us.” Shane replied. “We know you have guns, and we want them.” 

“Not gonna fuckin’ happen.” Negan laughed, batting the idea to one side as soon as it was placed on the table. “I’ll give you one gun.” 

“Don’t insult me.” 

“I’m not insulting you, I’m showing you your options. You can walk away Shane, don’t take the deal, it’s no skin off my back. It just means we’ll have to take everything that you have, we’ll have to kill you. We have the guns, the people. I think giving us half, sounds like the better deal.” Negan negotiated, the smile never leaving his face. 

“I need to go back and talk to my people.” Shane replied, weighing up his options. 

“Your people.” Negan sneered. “Okay, you talk to your people, you come back to me with a decision within three days, because on the fourth day, I’m going to come and kill you all.” 

Shane said nothing, instead, standing and making his way out. Simon escorted him back to the community gates, and just before Shane left the house, Negan spoke up.

“Three days Shane, three fuckin’ days.” He knocked his bat on the table, trying to intimidate him, it wouldn’t work, though. 

After Shane had left, Simon went back to his post at the entrance, and Negan went about his other jobs for the day. This mostly consisted of telling people to work faster and harder while he watched. It was evening when Rick finally woke from his slumber, his brain no longer pounding within his skull. He came outside to find Negan, and he did so quickly enough. He made his way over to the group of guys now digging holes in the ground. Negan watched proudly. 

“Why are they digging holes?” Rick asked, causing Negan to spin on his heel with a grin on his face. 

“They’re… a precaution.” Negan spoke. “Come on.” He ushered Rick back to the house and closed the door behind both, making sure it was locked. His eyes scanned Rick now like he was a predator who had just spotted his prey, and there was a look in Rick’s eyes like he knew what was coming, and he wanted it to come.


	5. Roadtripped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Negan get closer, Dwight and Rick go on an adventure only to find someone from Rick's past.

Almost immediately after they’d walked into the bedroom, Rick found himself pressed up against the wall. Negan had pinned him there, his lips pressed against Rick’s, knocking the air from his lungs in one quick motion. Negan knew how to kiss, and Rick easily fell into it, enjoying the faint taste of whiskey as his tongue delved inside, and then Negan’s hands were on Rick’s ass, and his now hard cock was pressed against Rick’s body, he could feel it. The kiss was sloppy, passionate, and amazing for both parties. Eventually, Negan came up for air, and he smiled, taking a deep breath as Rick looked at him. 

“I think it’s time we got you out of this.” Negan started, looking down at the bulge that was now easily visible beneath Rick’s tight Jeans. His fingers began to work at Rick’s shirt, as he unbuttoned Rick’s shirt, he examined the perfect body beneath. Rick then decided to help, he pulled his shirt off once Negan had finished unbuttoning it. 

Negan slipped his fingers into the waistband of Rick’s jeans, teasing him coyly. He moved closer, his mouth just near to Rick’s left ear, and spoke quietly.

“I want you to suck my dick.” He smirked, then continued. “Hell, I might even return the favor if you’re good at it.” 

Taking a step back, Negan held his arms out, as if to say ‘come and get it’. He removed his shirt, giving Rick his first look at a topless Negan. It made his cock throb. He then continued to undress, Rick’s eyes plastered to his body the entire time. He watched with excitement as more skin was revealed, and soon Negan’s hard cock was on display for Rick. 

It was almost a compulsion, since Rick had no idea how sex really worked. He wanted to please Negan, though, and it seemed that doing this would please him. 

Rick moved forward, lowering himself to his knees. He took Negan’s dick in his hand, stroking it back and forth slowly, his piercing blue eyes looked up at his savior, who now had a look of sheer pleasure plastered across his face. His eye shut, and a small smirk upon his lips as Rick continued to move back and forth. 

Negan’s hand found it’s way into Rick’s hair, he grabbed at it, tugging slightly and guiding Rick to put his mouth around Negan’s cock. He did so willingly, taking as much as he could. 

“Oh fuck, Rick.” Negan moaned, looking down at his plaything. Rick had closed his eyes, focusing on using his tongue to compliment his performance. Then Negan’s hand stroked Rick’s cheek, down to his chin. “Look at me.”

They locked eyes, and Negan had to bite his lip to stop himself from letting out a string of profanity. Rick looked so beautifully innocent on his knees, mouth wrapped around Negan’s cock. Negan thought he could get used to this. 

Rick was so slow, caring, and while it felt amazing, Negan needed more if he wanted to cum, and he very much wanted to cum. His hand quickly found it’s way to the back of Rick’s head, and he encouraged Rick to move faster, gripping his hair as he rocked his hips back and forth slightly, fucking Rick’s mouth all the while, never losing eye contact. 

Rick had to admit, seeing Negan unravel before him was extremely sexy, his own cock throbbed in his jeans, begging for some sort of release. He regained his balance by holding onto Negan’s waist with one hand, and soon enough that hand found it’s way to Negan’s ass. Rick played with the supple skin with his fingers, which caused Negan to let out a long moan of pure pleasure. 

“You’re fucking good at this.” He said through deep breaths, he pressed his teeth together, his jaw now tense, and then he was climaxing, His orgasm caused him to let out a loud visceral groan as Rick swallowed his cum willingly. 

Rick pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and regaining his breath. Negan didn’t give him long to recover, though, because he had Rick on his feet in a matter of minutes, pushing him toward the bed, and eventually pinning him to it. 

Rick took a deep breath, he watched as Negan made his way down, pulling Rick’s jeans and boxers low enough to get access to his hard cock. Negan was like an animal, set on making Rick squirm. He took Rick’s cock in his hand, stroking fast and watching as Rick closed his eyes, pushing his head back into the pillow. His hands grabbed the bed sheets and his knuckles turned white as the bolt of endorphins rushed through his system. 

Negan didn’t use his mouth, though, he didn’t need to. Rick let out several pleasurable moans, and it was clear to Negan that he wasn’t going to last long. That turned Negan on, to a point. He continued to stroke Rick, moving his wrist ever so slightly, alternating pressure as his fingers grazed the tip of his cock. 

“Fuck…” Rick had no time to say anything else coherent, because he was orgasming, and his mind seemed to lose all sense of language. Hot cum covered Negan’s hand and Rick’s stomach, his dick twitched as he came down from what was possibly the greatest experience of his known life, so far. 

-

Rick stood with Dwight as he puffed on a cigarette. They were near the main gates, leaning against the fence and chatting about the world before it went to shit. It had become a new pastime for Dwight to educate Rick on everything and anything totally irrelevant about life before the outbreak. However, at this point Rick was only partially listening. When Dwight started talking, he could really talk. It might have been down to the fact that Rick was the only one polite enough to not walk away or tell Dwight to shut the fuck up, but now they were stuck together most days. 

Rick had stopped keeping watch at the gates, replaced by a new arrival who needed to, in the words of Negan, ‘prove his worth’. He now spent his days as Negan’s ‘aid’. At least, that’s what he told people. They were under the assumption that Rick was basically Negan’s bitch, and while they weren’t particularly wrong, the context may have been slightly off. Instead of making Negan coffee and cleaning his shoes, he was sucking his dick and sleeping in bed with him. The community didn’t need to know that, though. 

A while later, Negan made his way to Rick and Dwight, joining in the conversation for a moment before informing them that he was expecting a visitor. It had been exactly three days since he’d met with Shane, and he planned to go there first thing tomorrow morning if the little prick didn’t show up. He caught Rick up on recent events and informed him of the deal he had offered this other group of survivors. 

“Dwight.” Negan turned his attention to his third in command. “Since I need to sit around here and wait for this prick with Simon, you need to go on a search.” 

“Okay.” Dwight nodded, stubbing out his cigarette and getting ready to leave. 

“Can I come?” Rick questioned, looking at Dwight. After going out with Simon, Rick wanted to see more of the world outside of the walls. Dwight looked at Negan for approval, and Negan eventually nodded. 

“Don’t be too long.” He commanded to both Dwight and Rick, before heading over to Simon who was in the guard tower, keeping an eye out for their visitor. 

Dwight and Rick made their way to the jeep, Dwight took the drivers seat, starting up the engine. Rick bundled into the passenger seat, and soon they were on their way down a long country lane, the opposite direction to the way Simon and Rick had driven. 

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Rick queried as he scanned the fields and forest areas that surrounded them. 

“Survivors, mainly.” Dwight started, focusing on the road. “But, if you find something salvageable let me know.” 

They continued to drive, and they’d both put down the windows, allowing for an amazingly cooling through-breeze, which was very welcoming on a day like today. They stopped twice, within the space of an hour, the first stop was because Dwight needed a piss, the second stop was to search an abandoned delivery truck, which not surprisingly, was empty. They stopped at what was once a vacation resort. There were a few wood cabins dotted around, and what looked like a reception area. Dwight lit a cigarette, taking a seat on one of the logs near the entry way, and Rick scanned the area. 

“Hardly ever find anything on these trips.” Dwight started, taking a long drag from his cigarettes. “Sorry if that’s disappointing, but the world really has gone to shit. I like to do this though, to get away from Negan for a couple of hours. He can be pretty fucking overbearing at times.” 

Rick found himself getting slightly worked up over that comment, he couldn’t understand why, though. Instead of answering, he made his way over to the office hut, rifling through pieces of paper and looking at everything like it was all foreign. In a way, it really was.

He stayed there until Dwight finished his cigarette. He made his way over, giving Rick a kick back to reality. 

“We need to check the cabins, then we can make our way back.” 

Rick nodded and followed Dwight who know had his gun loaded and ready. The cabins were mostly empty, bar a few pieces of clothing and the odd empty suitcase. Once Dwight had checked the last cabin, he sighed. 

“See? nothing.” He slammed the door shut, slightly frustrated. “Need to piss again, stay here.” He then made his way behind one of the cabins. 

Rick had noticed something, though. Within the foliage behind the cabin, he couldn’t quite make out what it was, and so he stepped forward, pushing some of the branches out of the way to get a better look.

“Don’t come any fucking closer.” A voice startled Rick. He jumped slightly, and suddenly realized this person was holding a very large double-barrel shot gun. 

“Sorry, I don’t have any weapons.” Rick replied, holding his hands up. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Then, a man appeared, he was short, Asian, and he didn’t remove the gun from Rick’s head. 

“What do you want?” He questioned, trying to mark his territory. Soon enough, Dwight was running over, ready to calm the situation down. 

“Woah, woah, woah…” He spoke, standing the middle of Rick and the survivor. “We didn’t mean to scare you man. I’m Dwight, this is my friend Rick, we have a camp and we’re looking for survivors. Are you with anyone? What’s your name?” 

“Yeah, we have a camp.” The kid replied. “and my name is Glenn.”

‘Well, Glenn, I’m so sorry we got off on the wrong foot.” Dwight smiled, embodied far too much of Negan’s character than Rick liked to believe. “We honestly aren’t here for trouble. We’re just glad to have found someone that’s not dead.” 

Glenn lowered his gun, wanting to believe that these two survivors were genuine. 

“You don’t come across many legit people these days, sorry for scaring you, Rick.” Glenn apologized. 

“It’s okay.” Rick nodded. 

“Now, you said you had a community?” 

-

The community wasn’t far, only a ten-minute walk through the dense wood, but there was a path already carved. This was clearly the only way in and out. Once there, Glenn began to introduce Dwight and Rick to everyone. They all responded wearily, unsure of these strangers in their territory. 

“This is my wife, Maggie.” Glenn started, introducing a cute girl with a short brown bob and a slim figure. She shook their hands but kept her distance. “Where’s D?” He asked.

“Just comin’” She replied, shielding her eyes from the light with her hand. Looking over to the area she had just come from. Dwight and Rick looked with curiosity, but as ‘D’ emerged from the wood, Rick’s stomach dropped as a thousand and one memories came flooding back. D stood there, unable to move, like he was now made of stone. 

“Daryl.” Rick stuttered, and Dwight could clearly see the shock in his friends’ eyes, he noticed that Rick’s breath had hitched, and his hands now shook ever so slightly.

“You know this guy?” Dwight asked. Looking between the two men with curiosity. Rick took a few tentative steps forward, and then he was walking, really walking, almost running at Daryl, and Daryl was making that face that Rick knew all too well, like he was about to cry, and Rick knew the only way to stop that. 

He kissed Daryl with so much force and passion, it knocked him back slightly. Daryl kissed Rick back, unable to contain his emotions, and surprisingly the kiss wasn’t confusing. It was real, because Rick had done it before, and he remembered doing it before. It felt so naturally right, the way Daryl’s hand was placed in the small of Rick’s back, the way Rick wrapped his arms around Daryl’s neck. 

Daryl pulled away, panting, he placed his forehead on Rick’s, and smiled. 

“They told me you’d lost your memory, at the hospital.” Daryl spoke between deep breaths. “But you remember me.” 

“It all just came back to me.” Rick replied, his voice hushed, holding back the emotions now seeping to the surface. He found himself overwhelmed by the memories of his life with Daryl before he’d been shot.


End file.
